The Boy Who Destroyed The World
by callmewhateveryouwant
Summary: Harry can't handle it anymore. Draco can't mask it anymore. Remus can't continue it anymore. Severus can't deny it anymore. Ron and Hermione can't ignore it anymore. What happens when emotions and thoughts can't be forced down any longer and break free?
1. Harry's POV

**Disclaimer: **This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

The story title is taken from the title of a song by AFI

**Warnings: **Suicide, angst, man-lovin', a bit of language. Don't read if you don't want to be depressed.

**PART ONE: HARRY'S POV**

I lay here in the Prefect's bathroom. It is late so I'm practically guaranteed my privacy. Not that I much care about my privacy at the moment. My mind is wavering from consciousness to the sweet black abyss. The empty bottle of pills lies on the floor next to me. I can't even concentrate enough to try to remember what the pills are I just swallowed moments ago. I vaguely remember that they're something that'll knock me out before I die. I wouldn't want to be conscious during my final moments, especially from what I've heard about overdoses on prescription drugs.

I've been thinking about this for weeks now, planning it out just right. At first I thought I'd just slit my wrists, but from my previous experiences with cutting, I decided against it. I could hardly draw blood before, I very much doubt I'd be able to draw enough blood to kill me when the time came. Then I thought of some simple magic solution; a potion or spell or what have you. But then I realized that magic was the whole reason I was plotting my own death.

Magic killed my parents. Magic killed Cedric. Magic killed Sirius. Magic killed Dumbledore. Magic killed Seamus and Neville and Cho and Mr. Weasley and Ginny and Professor McGonagall and countless others. Magic made my life worthwhile right before tearing it down again and then repeating the cycle over and over. Magic both created and destroyed my life. Magic introduced me to everyone who ever cared for me, many who are now dead. Magic introduced me to Draco Malfoy.

Draco Malfoy. He is a whole other problem. Of course, everyone was out to get him after Dumbledore's death, Order members because he helped cause the death of Dumbledore and got the Death Eaters inside Hogwarts, the Death Eaters because Draco failed the task of actually killing Dumbledore. It was his dirty and malnourished body winding its way on the Dursleys' doorstep that changed everything. He deflected to 'my' side, as it was now deemed, confessing everything while- willingly- under the effects of Veritaserum.

He confessed his work with Voldemort and his followers, reasoning that his upbringing taught him to do so and, even when he was wanting to switch sides, the need to protect his mother was what caused him to get the Dark Mark. He nearly broke down when he had to talk about her, the only person who ever truly loved him. He did break down, though, when I had the misfortune of informing him of his mother's murder, Voldemort's way of trying to lure Draco out of hiding.

The next few months were wretched for Draco, of course. No one but Snape, Remus, and I trusted him. After four months of trying over and over again to prove his allegiance to the side of the light, and a very grand saving of my life, people started to warm up to him. Two months later, the unthinkable happened. Draco and I got smashed, totally and completely, and wound up having quick, awkward, semi-clothed sex up against the wall outside a random club. We never spoke of it again, calling it simply The Night in my mind. I didn't even look him in the eye for another three months or so.

Even after that, we were no longer friends, which he had grown to be over the months. During training sessions and regular loneliness, me becoming the third wheel since Ron and Hermione shacked up and Draco no longer having any true friends, Draco and I had become close friends. But that one drunken night fucked it all up. Draco and I haven't had a decent conversation since. And then, one night, being the fool I am, I tried to kiss him again. He pulled away. Enough said.

So, now I'm laying here, every blink taking a little bit longer to end. I'm here for all the lives lost because of me, all the people who sacrificed themselves so I could go on to defeat Voldemort- which I had a little over a month ago; Draco and I still weren't talking at the time. Much like now. I'm here because the one person I've realized I love with every fiber of being won't ever love me. A night of hazy sex had proved it.

I lay here, imagining someone, hopefully Draco, bursting in through the door and saving me before it's all too late. Ron and Hermione will return to being my best friends. Remus won't hold complete and utter sorrow in his eyes, being able to move on from Sirius' death finally and maybe finding someone else to love, though his one true mate is gone. And Draco will love me. I sigh, knowing none of that will happen, but I'm about to die, why not have some lovely parting fantasies? I think I deserve to at least dream up a happy ending.

The haze in front of my eyes reminds me of the haze that was in front of my eyes on The Night. I blink slowly, silent tears dripping down my face, only now realizing that I'd probably been crying since I downed the pills. I replay the fantasy in my mind, fluttering between my eyes being opened and closed; I can't really tell when I'm blinking or not.

But in the fantasy, Draco comes into the bathroom all casual-like, holding his expensive toiletries he simply can't live without, taking in the surroundings after a few seconds. His eyes land on me after skimming over the empty pill bottle. The things in his arms clatter to the ground as he quietly mutters my name, stopping in his tracks for a moment or two before rushing to my side. He's now on his knees, looking at my face as I slump against the wall, my legs splayed out before me. I see the tears welling in his eyes, dripping over and falling down his face. I smile slightly, or at least attempt to, and the black closes in.

He grabs my hand, too much in shock to do much else than look at me with tears streaming down his face, dripping onto the floor, mixing with mine. I blink again, and this time my eyes stay closed. I faintly hear someone yelling a name and choke sobs, but my mind is too far gone to decipher whose voice it is and whose name they're calling. The last thought going through my head is that of Draco.


	2. Draco's POV

**Disclaimer: **This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

The story title is taken from the title of a song by AFI

**Warnings: **Suicide, angst, a lil o' men lovin' other men (okay a lot), a bit of language. Don't read if you don't want to be depressed.

**PART TWO: DRACO'S POV**

The cold wind feathers through my hair, turning my pale complexion pink from the frost. The tears don't help any. It's been a week, seven days, one hundred and seventy-six hours, ten thousand five hundred and eighty-four minutes since I found Harry slumped against the wall in the Prefect's bathroom. My face has been tear-stained since.

It's only been a week since he died and they're having a funeral. It's too soon, far too soon. I'd much rather be in my room, huddled in the corner, face buried in my knees as I sob to an empty room, silencing charm firmly in place, than be here where there are other people. I hate being this vulnerable.

My breath is loud and harsh and gasping and it's all I can do to prevent myself from falling to the ground and sobbing myself hoarse. There are others here, of course, but all I can think about is him. Harry. He's all I've thought about for months; ever since I let my guard down and fucked him up against a wall. It's what I wanted, _gods_, it's what I wanted. But I couldn't let him know that. Like I said, I hate being that vulnerable.

So, when he kissed me, I had my mask firmly in place and pulled away from his lips, feeling my heart shattering and protesting such idiocy as I did so. I didn't want people to know how much I love him, and how we could very well have had a relationship, but they know now. My actions for the past week are enough to clue people in on how deep my feelings run for the man. But, it's too late. It doesn't matter anymore. He's dead.

He left letters. Each addressed to a different person; Weasley, Granger, Lupin, Severus- surprising, I know- all the other people left of the Weasley clan, Dean Thomas, Hagrid, and, yes, me. The words he wrote are imprinted in my mind and I know I'll never forget them.

_Draco, _

_I know you don't care for me, but you must know by now how much I love you. I've thought of you constantly for the past months and I simply can't do it anymore. I can't keep loving you with your cold indifference staring me in the face. My life is catching up with me. Too many people's lives have been lost because of me, including mine. I have lost my chance to be with you and that's all I really want anymore. I hope with all my heart that you find that one person who makes you feel just as I feel when I see you. Don't ever think that I don't love you, even if you wish it weren't so. I hope you have a happy life, I really do. _

_-Harry_

A choked sob comes out of my mouth before I can stop it. I didn't know he _loved _me, for Merlin's sake. I thought it was just a silly infatuation, because how could Harry, the most amazing person ever to exist, love someone like _me_? And knowing that by suppressing my own feelings for him was a part in his suicide; it tears me apart from inside out.

As they lower his casket into the ground, I can't take it anymore. The pain is just too much, far too much. My knees give out and my mask crumbles completely as I fall to the ground below me. I grasp for something, tearing up clumps of grass as I sob and sob and _sob_. I can't imagine pain worse than this.

I choke out words, stilted and raspy between my unrelenting sobs. They're words of remorse, love, pain, fucking unbelievable guilt, all for Harry. I'm confessing everything to a person who's been dead for a week and I can't stop myself. The only thing in my mind is the fact that Harry is gone, and I'm to blame. A small voice reminds me that it's not completely my fault he's dead, but I don't care. I took a part in Harry's decision to down the bottle of pills and end his life. Nothing is more painful than knowing that simple fact.

I feel strong arms pulling me up and I vaguely register the voice of Severus trying to soothe me with calming words and a small part of me is thankful for the support, but most of me is clawing at the pair of arms holding me up, screaming out sobs and apologies to Harry. I know that Severus is trying to help me, but I don't deserve the help. I helped kill the man I love, I don't deserve anything short of grueling torture before a slow, painful death.

The arms around my waist slacken and I tumble to the ground again. I don't know how long I'm there, but by the time my voice is hoarse and I physically can't cry anymore, it is dark. I sit up, my muscles protesting due to being stuck in the same position for hours, but I don't care, I deserve it. I stand up and turn around. Severus and Lupin are standing there. Their faces are slightly puffy and I can see the tracks down their faces from crying.

The two of them are standing close together, though they're not touching at any point on their bodies. Fresh tears slide down my face, surprising me, as I thought I'd cried myself out. Severus holds his arms out, and I rush into them, not caring in the slightest at this out-of-character affection between my godfather and me. I break down again, my throat protesting as I start to sob again, the sound even worse now that my voice is sore and scratchy.

Severus just holds me until I'm able to compose myself enough to force down the sobs. He releases me and I wipe the tears from my face, noticing the wet stain I've left on his robes from my tears. He throws his arm around my shoulders and leads me back to the castle, for which I'm grateful. I don't think I would've made it to the castle on my own. Filch probably would've found me passed out in a bush or sprawled out on the grass or something of the sort in the morning. I allow a small smile at that thought as another tear trickles down my face.

Another thirty-six tears later and we're standing outside the portrait leading to the Slytherin dormitories. I whisper the password, so quiet I doubt the portrait even heard me, but I figure it took pity on me and opened up anyway. I turn around and notice that Lupin is still with us; I hadn't realized. I give Severus another hug, one more sob forcing its way from my throat. I pull away before I lose even more control and spare a glance and polite nod at Lupin, which he returns, a tear trailing past his cheek.

I turn, wiping the tears from my face, sticking my head up high and make my way into the common room. I don't look at anyone as I stroll through, my mask is weak enough as it is; looking at anyone could cause me to crumble yet again. I walk, as casually as I'm able to, up to the seventh year dorm room, glancing around quickly to see if anyone is in the room. I sigh gratefully when I realize I'm alone.

I peel of my clothes, silent tears leaking out once more. I take a shuddering breath before walking into the bathroom. As I look at myself in the mirror I gasp at how…_horrid_ I look. My eyes are deep and sunken in, huge, dark bags beneath them. My hair is mussed and there is dirt in it. There is also dirt smudged on my face, tracks from the tears the only part that is completely dirt free. My clothes are in disarray, wrinkled with grass and dirt all over them. I just now realize how thin I've gotten after only a week. God, I can just imagine what people thought as I walked through the common room moments ago. I realize I've lost all traces of Malfoy pride. I also notice I reek and how greasy my hair is.

I must shower. I strip off the rest of my clothes- just boxers, really- and turn the water on full-blast before stepping into the shower. I run on autopilot, completely shutting down my mind. Because I know if I allow any thoughts to enter my head, I'll break down. I wash my hair and body three times over, hating how grimy I let myself get. I don't even think I've showered in the past three days. I didn't know how much I've deteriorated since Harry's death.

Oh, there we go, I started thinking again. Luckily, I don't know how much I'm crying since the water mingles with my tears. For some reason that makes me think I've salvaged an ounce of my former dignity and pride. I quickly shut off the water, toweling myself down at a furious pace before slipping on some new boxers. I manage to slip into bed and erect a silencing charm before the first sob breaks loose.

They're unstoppable after that. I curl up into the fetal position, burying my face in my pillow, feeling the dampness from my tears slowly soaking through the fabric. Merlin, I never knew one could cry so much. After who knows how long I've been crying (or cares, really. I don't give a flying fuck how long I've been crying this last bout), I hear my curtains pulled back and register that someone is witnessing me in such a pitiful state. I can't find the heart to care. I simply turn over and cry a bit harder.

I feel a warm hand on my shoulder and I lift my head up minutely to glance behind me. It's Blaise. I open my mouth to try and explain why I've been crying uncontrollably. He just shushes me as a few more tears slip down my face and my breath gets drastically raspier. "I know how much you love him," he says quietly, before enveloping me in a caring hug. He _knew_! How the fuck did he know! I figure the last week might've been a dead giveaway, but he seems like he's known for much longer, long enough to accept it completely. I don't feel like analyzing it though, as thoughts of Harry continuously run through my mind.

More sobs escape, goddamnit, but Blaise doesn't seem to mind in the slightest, enveloping me in a caring hug. He keeps holding me as I cry myself into an uncomfortable sleep. When I wake up some hours later, Blaise is gone, but there's a cup of tea with a Warming Charm on it. I smile slightly at the kindness my best friend is showing. Smiling already feels so foreign. Of course, I've never been much a smiling person, so I can't really blame it on the past seven- wait, eight, now- days.

Slowly, all the pain comes crashing down again and the tears continue their trek down my face. Nope, the pain hasn't lessened at all today. I wonder if it'll ever ease up or if I'm bound to live out the rest of my days feeling this completely broken. I think I deserve the latter. Harry: the boy who destroyed the world. My world. And I deserve every single moment of torture I go through because of what he's done.

**A/N: **Whose POV would you like to read about next? Review 'n' let me know!


	3. Severus' POV

**A/N: **So sorry for the long-ass wait, let's just say that life has decided to hate me these past couple weeks and leave it at that. For those of you who reviewed, your wish is my command: Severus it is for le next POV. Enjoy! Oh, and I kind of disregard the whole Remus/Tonks coupling at the end of book sixth; I live in denial when it comes to that.

**Disclaimer: **This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

The story title is taken from the title of a song by AFI

**Warnings: **Language, tons of crying and depressing-ness, sappiness (this part's chock full of sap), and, of course, slash. Remus/Tonks couping in sixth book ignored.

**PART THREE: SEVERUS' POV**

I watch as Draco disappears into the Slytherin common room. I continue to stare in the same spot long moments after he's already gone. Merlin, that boy has been through far too much; I'm surprised he's able to move at all with all the pain he's feeling. I remember that night a week ago, when he burst into my room at nearly midnight. I was still awake, gathering more notes about Lupin and what he goes through being a werewolf. Draco burst into my room, holding a motionless Potter in his arms.

The rest of the night's a blur; I remember rushing around looking for antidotes, casting any spell that would revive him, but mainly I remember the look on my godson's face when I told him Potter was dead. It hurts just to think about the way Draco's face collapsed with the knowledge. I also remember the look on Lupin's face; it was something akin to…nothing. He had no emotion on his face. He just stared at Potter's body for a few minutes, then promptly left without giving any clue as to how he was feeling.

It's only when I hear a shuddering breath to my right that I remember Lupin is with me at the moment. I snap back to reality and turn to Lupin, seeing the broken man before me. Not one for affection, I simply grab his hand, squeeze it lightly, then release it. He looks at me through tearful eyes, but before I lose myself and pull him into my arms, I turn and walk down the corridors.

I hear footsteps behind me, so I know Lupin is following, just like I knew (and wished) he would. I walk down several hallways until I get to my room. As I walk into the Potions room, I don't hold the door open for Lupin, though I know he's right behind me. I swiftly make my way across the room and enter my private quarters through a doorway off to the side. It's only then I stop and turn to see Lupin.

Tears are steadily falling down his face and his breath is raspy; I know how hard he's trying to force down the sobs. But now we're in my room and it's private and he can drop all his barriers. I hold my arms open and step forward minutely and that's all it takes. He rushes into my arms and breaks down. I simply hold him much like I held Draco out on the grounds earlier tonight.

This is how it's been for the past four nights; ever since Lupin snapped out of his shock and crumbled. I was having another meeting with Lupin, a mere three days after Potter's death, this time analyzing the Wolfsbane potion I make him. I was scanning through the pages of notes we already had and when I glanced up at Lupin, I saw him completely lost in thought.

Knowing how hard a time he was having, I just turned back to the notes. Another few minutes went by before I heard a gasp come from Lupin. I looked up and he had tears shimmering in his eyes, about to break free. He glanced over at me and dissolved into racking sobs and tears. Lupin well and truly broke at that moment.

I stood up and walked the few feet over to him, wrapping my arms around him, feeling uncomfortable about the gesture. He clung to me, his sobs unrelenting. I held him for what must have been hours until his voice was hoarse and he swallowed down his sobs. He looked at me then, tears still gliding down his face, and for some reason unknown to me, he leaned into me and kissed me.

It wasn't all that great of a kiss, his face wet with tears (loathe I am to admit it, my face was wet from tears as well), and it was all rather sloppy, but it must've been the most perfect kiss I have ever experienced. I hadn't even known that Lupin was gay; I had my suspicions, though, about him and Black. The depression Lupin showed after Black's death was not one of a person losing a friend, more of a person losing a lover.

Lupin and I broke apart from the kiss, both laughing nervously at the absurdity of it all. That doesn't mean that we didn't do it again. Not a minute later we were kissing again and it was just as perfect as the first kiss. Wolfsbane notes forgotten, Lupin and I stumbled into my bed, our lips mashed together.

Although I was ready (and more than willing), we didn't go any further than that. Shortly after, Lupin crumbled again, and I held him through the night as he cried his soul out. And that's how it's been every single night since. Lupin breaks down and I'm there to make sure none of the pieces get lost so they can be put back together again.

Lupin and I, once again, stumble over to my bed, our mouths not separating for a second. Another few glorious minutes of kissing and Lupin pulls back. "Severus," he whispers in this completely vulnerable and broken voice. I pull him to my chest as more tears escape and his voice is gasping and sobs tear their way from his throat. I hold him until he falls asleep, the pained look not slipping from his face.

It's then I strip him down to his boxers and put the covers over him. I quickly undress until I, too, am down to only my boxers. I slide under the covers and pull him back to my chest. I watch him for a while, feathering my hands through his hair occasionally. I place a soft kiss on his lips before I settle down and attempt to sleep.

When I wake up, Lupin is gone, the space next to me cold, telling me he's been gone for a while. No matter, I know where he is. I quickly shower, telling myself that the tears slipping down my face as I do so are just the water. I get out and get dressed, making my way out to the grounds.

I find Lupin where I knew I would; sitting on the ground by Harry's grave. His face is flushed from the cold and wet from the tears. Despite my disgust at doing so, I sit down on the muddy ground behind him. I wrap my arms around his waist and he leans back into the embrace. His head falls onto my shoulder I simply can't resist; I place a quick kiss on his lips, pulling back before he can respond.

He looks up at me as a few more tears slip down his face and pulls me into another kiss, this one much more heated but somehow more gentle and caring than I could ever have imagined. I break away, reluctantly mind you, before I lose it and ravage him right here and now.

Lupin pulls away as well. His head falls back onto my shoulder and he closes his eyes. I see his throat working in an attempt to keep control over his emotions. My grip around his waist gets a little bit tighter and I close my eyes before any tears can escape. I take a deep breath and when I open my eyes, they settle on the forms of Weasley and Granger making their way over here.

I'm about to stand and leave before the two arrive and find Lupin in my arms, but then Lupin barks out a sob and turns in the embrace, burying his face in my chest. All thoughts of leaving fly out my head as I hear the desperate cries of the man in my arms. "Remus," I whisper lightly, pulling him in closer, if it's even possible. I place a gentle kiss on the top of his head and I can't help it; a tear slides down my face.

Two loud yelps of surprise break through my senses. I look up, as does Lupin, and it's only then I remember that Weasley and Granger were approaching. I feel Lupin tense up as they simply stare at us. After a few moments of unbearably awkward silence, the two turn and make their way back to the castle.

Lupin takes a deep breath and stands. Before my brain can tell me not to do it due to the utter sappiness of it, I brush the tears from Lupin's cheeks. He smiles slightly before shoving his hands deep in his jean pockets and he looks down to the ground. "I, uh, I should go after them. I haven't really talked to them much and, I dunno, I just need to go be with them. Maybe sort everything out."

I nod and before I can walk away, Lupin pulls me into another kiss, this one so full of love my throat tightens. And I'm not just receiving this powerfully loving kiss, I'm giving as good as I'm getting and it's then I realize I'm in love with him. The realization is like a bucket of cold water.

I pull away and leave before I do something phenomenally stupid like confess my love or cry or something equally vulnerable. I rush back to my room, but decide I have a pit stop to make. I stop by the Slytherin dorms and make my way up to the seventh year boys' rooms. When I get there, I find the place empty except for Blaise Zabini, who is casting a Warming Charm on a cup of tea. He sets the tea down on a bedside table.

I walk up to him and am about to talk when he holds a finger to his lips and jerks his head to the bed he just set the tea beside. The curtains are shut all around the bed, except for a small gap by the bedside table. I peek in through the gap and see Draco sleeping, his faced scrunched up in pain. My heart pangs at seeing him in so much pain while he's _sleeping_. I hate how he can't get away from the pain, even in his slumber.

"He just got to sleep about an hour ago," Zabini whispers. I look back to Zabini and see how tired he looks; he must not have slept at all last night.

"You look like you haven't gone to bed at all, Zabini," I whisper back. His gaze shoots from Draco to me and he nods.

"I've been watching over him." My respect for the boy before me has just quadrupled.

"Well, he's asleep now, so why don't you rest up?" I can tell he's just dying to collapse into bed and sleep for who knows how long. To my surprise he shakes his head.

"I can't, sir. I have things to do." Without another word, he slips out of the room. I frown slightly in confusion and, as quietly as I can, walk out of the room, shutting the door slowly as I leave. I exit Slytherin then and return to my rooms. I rummage through my desk until I find the Wolfsbane notes.

I leaf through the pages quickly before turning and going to my potions cupboard. I grab all sorts of different ingredients and set to work. If I succeed, it could change everything.

Several hours later I have yet to create the right potion. I wipe the sweat from my forehead and curse loudly as another attempt turns out wrong. I collapse into my chair and relax for a few minutes. Hopefully the next batch works. I lean back and stare up at the ceiling, and, damnit, I start to think.

My breath gets raspier and my eyes fill with tears as I think of Lupin and all the pain he must be going through. But then I have a moment of complete and total clarity. These past days I haven't cried once for _my _pain, but for _Lupin's_. I haven't even thought about _why_ it is Lupin's in so much pain.

I realize I've been in shock for the past eight days over the death of Potter. And now, all of a sudden, I've snapped out of my shock, much like Lupin did five days ago. I take a shuddering breath and, before I can stop it, I breakdown. Sobs seem to rip their way from my throat and tears drip down my face.

I hadn't realized how much Potter's death means to me. True, I was never great friends with the boy, but I held a high respect for him. The past months of the war proved a time where we got past our animosity and became slightly more than civil acquaintances. I'd like to think that Potter saw me as something sort of like a father figure, since- and I hate to admit it- I saw him as something akin to a son.

Now, we didn't have the whole father-son bond that he shared with Lupin, it was nowhere near that strong a bond, but working with him during the war proved that I actually cared for him. It's embarrassing to admit to myself how much I cared for him. It's then I realize that I never read the letter addressed to me from him. I remember shoving it in a random drawer in my desk before I could think about it, without so much as a glancing at it before I tucked it away.

I swallow down my sobs and wipe my face furiously before frantically searching through my desk for the letter. I find it in the very back of the very bottom drawer, hidden under old papers years old that I never bothered to get rid of. I look at the envelope. It doesn't say _Snape_ like I'd expect Potter to address it as. It says _Severus_. That's even more shocking than when I found out he'd written a letter to _me_ of all people.

I carefully pull the letter out of the envelope, unfolding it as if it were an ancient artifact. Then, I read.

_Dear Severus,_

_I know how shocked you must be that I actually wrote _you _a letter. I bet you're scoffing at it right now, thinking how foolish a boy I am. But, I needed to write you. I know we didn't have the best of relationships- understatement of a lifetime- but, and I hate to admit this, I've grown attached to you these past months. You helped me so much during the war, and not just with training and potions and all that battle-related stuff. You were my support. I remember the few times during Occlumency lessons that I'd break down and you'd hold me, comforting me through whatever trauma I was going through at the time._

A sob escapes. I hold the letter further away so my tears stop dripping on it.

_I know you'll probably hate that I think of you like this, but you'll just have to suck it up. I sort of think of you like a father-type guy, I guess. And, I hope I'm right in assuming, but I kind of got the vibe that you've started thinking of me as a son-esque type of person. I just needed to let you know how much you've helped me, with everything, really._

Merlin…just…_fuck_.

_Now, my final wish for you is to look after Remus. I know you two try to act like you guys hate each other, but I know better. I see the way you guys look at each other; you practically have eye-sex day in and day out. I know how much pain Remus is going through. He has yet to get over Sirius completely and I doubt the war's much help, plus what I'm about to do. I need you to help him through this and you better get your act together and kiss him or something. I…shit I sound like an idiot, but I love you, Severus, no matter how infuriating you are at times. And you and Remus better have a fucking great life together because you both deserve it._

_-Harry_

I can't…I can't even begin. To know that Potter thought of me as a father figure type is so unbelievably warming. And just knowing he's gone and I can't go tell him that, yes, he meant so much to me that it hurts to admit, is excruciating. I can now begin to feel what Draco's going through, but his pain must be at least a hundred times worse.

That still doesn't change the fact that the pain I'm feeling right now is just about unbearable. I'm sobbing myself hoarse and my face is soaked with snot and tears. The letter slips from my grasp and I lose myself in the pain. I don't know how long I'm alone crying, but sometime later, it must've been at least and hour or two, I feel warm arms envelop me and a soft kiss press against the nape of my neck.

I gasp and look behind me to see Lupin. _Remus_. He pulls me up from where I'm kneeling on the ground- when did that happen?- and I collapse into his arms. I can feel his tears soaking into the side of my head and I feel his warm breath coming out in short bursts against my ear.

We stay like this for however long until I manage to choke down the sobs. I pull back and look into his face in all its wet and puffy glory and I can't help it. I say the three dreaded words. "I love you," I hear my raspy voice whisper. Merlin, when did I become such a fucking pansy? I know it's the right thing to do, though. If I've learned one thing from Potter it's that I shouldn't let life pass me by just because I'm afraid of what'll happen if I let down my guard.

So, here I am, laying down the cards and dropping the shields completely to Remus. My heart clenches painfully for the few seconds that Remus doesn't respond, but then he breaks out into a watery smile and whispers back, "Severus, I love you, too." I can't suppress the smile that makes its way onto my face, nor do I want to.

I pull Remus into another kiss, pouring my heart into it and I can feel him doing the same. We break apart and I can see how exhausted Remus is. I drag him to bed, undressing him slowly and sweetly, even though he was perfectly capable of undressing himself. I tuck him into bed and give him one last lingering kiss before walking out of the room.

I go back to my notes and begin the next batch of potions, hoping with every fiber of my being that this one won't be a dud. A little longer than an hour later I find out that, yes, that one was a dud. Forcing down the anger that wants to rear its ugly head, I channel all my frustrations into the next batch.

I make batch after batch and, finally, around five in the morning, I smile a victorious smile. I've done it. I have to tell Remus.

**A/N: **Who next? Remus? Blaise? Ron? Hermione? Who would you like to read about? Lemme know! 


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